


Paper Cranes

by overthejune



Series: DNF Oneshots [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Coming Out, DNF, Dream is the sensitive quite kid, Dream's POV, Drista - Freeform, Fluff, Gay, Gay Panic, George is the Big Man Boyfriend, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Oneshot, Set during Winter, dnf oneshot, dreamnotfound, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:01:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29002644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overthejune/pseuds/overthejune
Summary: Clay is a normal teenager; messy room, annoying younger sister, secret boyfriend... what if he doesn't want to keep the secret anymore?[REUPLOAD]
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: DNF Oneshots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2139801
Comments: 14
Kudos: 116





	Paper Cranes

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I tried.  
> The main focus is Clay coming out.  
> I had to re-upload because the last one kept crashing  
> I hope you like it<3  
> If Dream and/or George ever change their mind about shipping and fanfiction, I will not hesitate to delete this :)  
> Enjoy!

I was ten years old when I saw him for the first time. He was sitting at my lunch table, bent over a piece of paper. His dark brown curls fell over his face, so I couldn’t see his eyes. I set my lunch down in front of him and sat down at the table.

“Hello,” he said, looking up at me with big, brown eyes. I wanted to ask him what his name was. I wanted to ask what he was doing with that paper in front of him. I wanted to ask him so many things.

“Why are you sitting at my table?” I asked instead. 

He blushed and looked down at his hands. “My friends were being mean to me.”  
“Oh.”  
“What’s your name?”  
“Clay. What’s your name?”  
“George.”  
“What are you making?” I asked, gesturing towards the piece of paper he abandoned. “Paper crane,” he says and starts folding the paper. 

A minute later, he hands me the finished crane. “You can have it,” he says.  
“Thank you, “I said, setting it gently down next to me. 

“Do you want to be friends, Clay?” I told him, “yes”, trying to hold back the excitement bubbling up inside me.

Nobody had ever asked to be my friend before.

My mother is yelling at me from the kitchen to hurry up. I yell back, telling her I’ll be down in a minute. She is probably going to get on to me for yelling through the house, even though she yelled first. 

I can’t find my backpack, which is a definite problem because all of my homework is in there and I’d rather not fail this semester. I find it (eventually) under my bed.  
Of course.  


I glance at my unmade bed before I leave my room.  
I should probably clean my room when I get home. There are papers all over my desk. 

An army of paper cranes, all of which were made by George, occupies the top of my dresser.

I decide cleaning my room can wait until later. When I finally make my way into the kitchen, my mom is sitting at the table drinking coffee and frantically pulling on her shoes. Her caramel brown hair is pulled up into a messy ponytail. I sit down across from her and watch the sun peek through the bare winter trees outside the window.

Mom finishes with her coffee and stands up. “Do you need anything before I go to work?” She asks. I shake my head. “Ok,” she says, walking around the table to me.  
She kisses the top of my head and walks to the front door. “I love you,” She says. Grabbing her keys. “Love you, too,” I say as she walks out the door.

While I walk down the sidewalk to the bus stop at the end of the street, I think of all the hypothetical conversations that won’t happen at school today. I go through all the possible answers I could give to the random questions people won’t ask me. I think about all the things I could say when people don’t talk to me.  
When someone does actually talk to me, I don’t say very much, even though I probably have a very long unnecessarily long-winded answer prepared.  
Talking to people is scary, okay? What if they don’t like what I have to say?

I glance behind me to make sure Drista is still there. She tried to run away a few years back when I wasn’t looking. It made me paranoid.  
When we get to the bus stop, George is there waiting for me. He smiles when he sees me, and my insides melt. I swear his smile gets cuter every time I see him. I walk over and stand by him.

“Hello,” he says, grabbing my hand and lacing our fingers together. His hand is warm in mine.  
“Hi,” I say back. My breath clouds in front of me.  
“You look cute today,” He says into my hair. “You do too,” I say, and tug on the end of his red scarf.  
Drista pretends to gag, and I pretend to kick her.

When the bus pulls up, George and I fall into a seat and lean against each other. It’s so cold outside, and he’s so warm. Voices rise and fall in the isles around us but I don’t listen, mostly because I don’t care.  
Occasionally, I will hear mine or George’s name in a conversation, but I ignore it because it’s not like I’m going to say anything anyway. That doesn’t stop me from constructing the perfect response in my head, though.  
Someone behind us throws a waded-up ball of paper at the back of George's head, and he grabs it and folds it into a paper crane.  
“A crane for my boyfriend, the collector,” He says, handing it to me. “I love it,” I say, setting it in my backpack.  
“I knew you would,” he says back and kisses my cheek.

The bus screeches to a halt outside the school and we file out into the cold. People still stare at us as we walk into the school. I honestly don’t know why people are still so shocked. We’ve been together for a couple of months at this point. You’d expect people to get over it. 

We go to our lockers, which happen to be side by side. When we get to them, we find a boy who I think is in the grade above us digging around in my locker.

I want to say something, I really do. There are so many things I want to say to this kid. I want to, but I can’t. I squeeze George’s hand and step towards my locker, shoving aside the kid.  
I had a bunch of George’s paper cranes hanging up in there before, but they are all torn to shreds now. And my textbooks seem to have been taken for a swim.

I cannot handle this. I’m shaking, and tears are welling in my eyes. The kid sees my face and turns to run, but George grabs him by his shirt and hisses something in his ear. When George let’s go, the kid runs away.

I sink to the floor and cover my face with my hands. I feel George sit down next to me and wrap his arms around me. The bell rings a moment later, and we get up to go to Homeroom.

When I get to class, Alyssa, the girl who sits next to me asks me if I’m okay. I nod my head and wipe my eyes.  
Alyssa seems like the type of person I would be friends with. I’ve tried to talk to her before, but it never really worked out due to my lack of communication skills. Now, come to think of it, she may have thought I was flirting with her. The thought makes me laugh because I am very gay and have a boyfriend.

Physics is next. Me and George have physics together. I sit behind him and he turns around in his chair to face me. “I want to punch that kid in the face,” he says. That makes me laugh a bit. “Why?” I ask, taking his hand.  
“Because, Clay. He deserves it,” I’m full-on laughing now. “He really does, doesn’t he?” I say, trying to catch my breath. We’re both laughing now.

“Please don’t actually punch him,” I say once we’ve calmed down some.  
“Don’t worry. I won’t punch him,” and I don't believe him for a second.  
Mrs. Smith, the physics teacher, walks in a moment later and begins her lesson.

After school, I go over to George’s. We watch a movie in his living room, but we don’t hold hands or anything because neither of our parents know we’re dating. Later we go to his room, which is decorated with, you guessed it, paper cranes. The cranes in his room are made of all different colors of paper mostly blue, green, and yellow, and it looks very cool. I love George’s room. It smells like him, and it looks like him.

We sit on the floor, even though there are plenty of things to sit on.  
“I was thinking…” George begins, “I think I am ready to tell my parents that we are dating.” My face must look shocked because he quickly adds “only if you’re ready, of course.”  
I think for a minute, then say “I’m ready whenever you are. I’ve been thinking about it a lot too, actually.”  
“When do we want to tell them?” he asks.  
“I mean, we could do it today and get it over with,”  
“Okay. And if things go bad we can move in together and take Patches with us,”  
“That sounds fantastic to me,” I say with a soft chuckle.

And so, that’s how I end up sitting at the dinner table in front of my parents, about to tell them the biggest secret I think I’ve ever kept.  
So.  
This should be fun. 

I’ve practiced this a dozen times. I’ve imagined a million different ways to break the news to them, that their second to the eldest child is a gay disaster, but at least he has a boyfriend. I just can’t seem to make the words come out. (Hahaha, get it? Come out?)

‘Mom. Dad, I’m gay and I have a boyfriend. Please don’t hate me’ No. That can’t be good.  
‘This spaghetti is straighter than me! Well, at least I have a boyfriend!’ That’s even worse!  
‘A kid destroyed my locker today because he saw me holding hands with George. Did I mention George is my boyfriend?’ That just sounds sad.  
Now I’m having an intense Gay Panic moment because HOW DO PEOPLE DO THIS?

I realize I have not said a single word during dinner, and my mother has noticed. “How was your day today, Clay?” She asks.  
Oh. Well, mother. My day started with someone making me cry in front of everyone. Other than that, it was lovely.  
I cannot say that. Instead, “It was fine I guess,” was my answer, convincing enough because she does not question me further.

Without thinking, I decide to say the thing. “Do you guys want to know a fun fact about me?”  
Now Mom, Dad, and Drista are all looking at me. Drista opens her mouth, then closes it. She knows what I’m about to say. I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared in my life. I’m shaking a little bit from nerves.

“Are you guys ready?” I ask.  
“Just say it, Clay,” Drista says. I’m kinda scared she’s going to say it if I don’t.  
“Shut your face,” I say back.  
Then, “Ok. Well, the fun fact is, I am dating someone.” Damn, you Clay. You were supposed to say, boyfriend!  
“Oh! Who is she?” My mom asks. She’s so excited. I don’t want to burst her bubble.  
“The person I am dating is actually George,”

The room is silent. My heart is hammering in my chest that I fear everyone could hear it.  
Then, everyone is smiling. 

“How lovely!” My mom exclaims. My dad gets up and hugs me so so tight, I can't really breathe.  
Mom then looks over at Drista and sees her unfazed expression. “Aren’t you surprised or something?” Mom asks her. She laughs. “I already knew they were a thing. They always hold hands at the bus stop and make out on the bus,” now my face is burning.  
“We do not,” I say too defensively.

Drista smirks at me and mom and dad are grinning and everything is great. I wish I could fold this moment into a paper crane and hang it up and keep this feeling forever.

**Author's Note:**

> So yah  
> Leave a comment :)
> 
> Criticism and suggestions are always welcome!  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/OverTheJune)


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